


Reflected Pain

by EleanoraWrites



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Cuban Lance (Voltron), Eventual Keith/Lance (Voltron), Galra Keith (Voltron), Gay Keith (Voltron), Insecure Lance (Voltron), Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Keith (Voltron) is a Mess, Keith/Lance (Voltron) Angst, M/M, Pining Keith (Voltron), Pining Lance (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-17
Updated: 2019-10-17
Packaged: 2020-12-22 10:04:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21074420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EleanoraWrites/pseuds/EleanoraWrites
Summary: First published on Instagram (username: @/eleanoramckogane)





	Reflected Pain

**Author's Note:**

> First published on Instagram (username: @/eleanoramckogane)

Keith looks at the mirror and winces. 

His whole body is covered in nasty bruises, patches of dry blood and cuts that could do with some treatment. But he had been in far worse shape than this; to him this is nothing. Sure, it hurts like hell. Every movement feels like his lungs are being crushed, his muscles are tearing him apart and his bones breaking all over again. 

But apart from that, he feels absolutely fine.

Or so he thought.

Keith whimpers as he tries to clean the wounds. His skin breaks into a cold sweat, his breathing turns laborious and his limbs seem to weight tons. His arms begin to violently shake and every fibre of him screams in pain. He exhales in effort through his nostrils, his chest rising and falling as it burns and aches and he grabs the bathroom counter for support. 

A silent drop of sweat runs down his temple, another down the perfect arch of his spine and a tear finally falls from the corner of his eye.

“Need help with that?” a voice asks from behind him and Keith jolts at the sound. 

He lifts his head to the source of the voice and his heart gives a painful flutter in his already sore chest. Lance’s face is concerned as he takes on Keith’s appearance, jaw clenching as he takes a step forward without any invitation.

“I’m fine Lance,” Keith replies trying to maintain a straight face as he tries to steady his breathing. 

Still, it didn’t deter his fellow paladin; Lance just gives him a shrewd glance before approaching the first aid kit and rummaging through it. 

Keith opens his mouth to complain but the sudden sharp pain in his back silence him with a low cry. Lance peeps at him, a scathing look darkening his blue eyes and Keith swallows the protest.

“Turn around,” Lance orders and Keith sighs tiredly, spinning on his heel and facing the mirror. “This might sting a bit.”

Keith gives a curt nod before biting his lips to muffle the cry that wants out as Lance applies whatever it is he’s using to clean the wound on his shoulder. His eyes water as the stinging sensation turns from burning inferno to icy numbness and a small wave of relief finally dazes the pain. 

He exhales in relief, letting his head drop and closing his eyes as Lance continues his procedure.

Keith loses track of time, lost in the haze of Lance’s hands carefully treating his cuts and wounds. They’re soft and gentle; his fingers tender over his injuries as he cleans them then bandages them. He feels like he’s falling into a quiet torpor; Lance’s touch erasing the pain and replacing it with something else entirely different.

It clenches something deep inside him, tightens its grip on him and sends electric shivers down his spine. It makes him lightheaded, longing to have Lance’s fingerprints imprinted on his skin forever and feel them ignite his own core until he’s boiling like molten lava.

“Why did you do it?” Lance asks bursting Keith’s bubble and bringing him back to the cold harsh reality. 

He lifts his head to peer at Lance through the mirror, his face closed in concentration as he continues working on his wounds. Still, Keith can’t decode if the crease on his brow is mainly from focus or something else entirely. 

"Did what?” Keith’s voice comes out raspy and he moistens his lips and clears his throat. 

“Let them beat you up like that,” Lance says, lips set in a thin line as he exchanges a quick look with Keith over the mirror. Keith is almost sure the shadow of something covers his eyes before he looks away. “Shiro told us what happened. He said you could have stopped but instead you kept fighting. They could have killed you.” 

“Yeah, well they didn’t,” Keith replies a little severely and immediately regrets his attitude as he sees Lance flinch slightly. He blows the air out of his lungs, hangs his head low and smooths his tone. “I needed to know the truth. Needed to find my place in the middle of this war.”

"Your place is right here with us, as a paladin and defender of the universe,” Lance says.

“I’m not so sure anymore,”

“Why? Because you found out your mother is Galra?” Lance asks and Keith can hear the underlying tenor to his voice that he can’t seem to comprehend. He looks at the mirror again, tries to read Lance’s expression but all he sees is that same concentration as he bandages Keith’s arm. “So what? Does that change who you are?”

“Maybe it helps me understand myself a little bit better,” Keith answers.

“Bullshit!”

Keith starts at Lance’s voice, sees the way the blue paladin stares at him in defiance, eyes hard and inflexible, locked deeply with his. He’s unmoving, breath coming out in puffing pants that he can’t seem to control the more he stares at Lance.

“It’s not your lineage that makes you who you are,” Lance says firmly. “You don’t need a trial to learn about your true self or your place. It’s what you do for others, what you sacrifice for them that defines you.”

“If I don’t know where I come from, then how can I know who I truly am?” Keith asks, exasperation beginning to crawl under his skin.

“By being yourself,” Lance replies softly. “By being the person you’ve always been.”

“You don’t even know me Lance,” Keith retorts harshly, turning on his heels to face him. 

Lance’s face is shocked at the sudden outburst, eyes wide and dilated at the words that Keith regrets saying though they linger dangerously in the air. 

Keith fills his lungs again, welcoming the pain in his ribs. “I don’t even know me. How can you say that being Galra doesn’t define me?”

The silence that fills the bathroom is heavy and tense. 

Keith lets his head and shoulders drop, closes his eyes a different kind of ache courses through him. It feels like needles poking his heart, probing his skin and cold sweat goose-bumps his entire body. 

“Let’s get you to a pod,” Lance’s voice cuts the silence, croaky and impassive and Keith’s heart clenches at the tone. His hands turn into fists as he battles against the tears that want to be shed. “Coran has one ready for you.”

Keith startles when Lance’s arm come around his waist and he helps him balance on his wobbly legs. He puts all his weight in helping Keith walk, one foot after the other, supporting him as they leave the bathroom. It’s a slow process, and a strenuous one and by the time they reach half of the door, Keith’s sweating and panting.

“Lance, I can manage-“

“I’m taking you to the medical wing, no arguments!” he states soberly opening the door and adjusting his grip on Keith. “Just because you’re a stubborn, quiznaking half-Galra doesn’t mean I don’t care for you. So shut your quiznak and move your damn feet.”

“I don’t think you’re using that word properly,” Keith says half jokingly, half hearty as a tenacious lump forms in his throat making it hard to swallow. 

“Oh well, quiznak,” Lance replies, this time with a soft smile in his voice that warms Keith’s heart as it melts the alarm of Lance’s previous tone. “I’m using quiznak for everything from now on. And you can’t stop me.”

“Wouldn’t think of it,” Keith replies taking a step forward with Lance’s help. 


End file.
